Catch A Falling Superstar: A New Adult Erotic Romance

by Steen, J. Emily

  I heard the toilet flush and a few seconds later he came out, smelling faintly of soap.

  “I say, Princess Blue, thy kitchen sure is small, but pretty nice,” he declared theatrically, going with the Prince Hamlet stuff in a weird mix of modern English and the stilted Shakespearean language.

  “How about we cooketh some dinner here? Like, we talked about spaghetti earlier. I mean 'spake' about. Hm. Spaketh.”

  “That'd be fine with me. I have some things we'd... uh... needeth.”

  “Like spaghetti, tomatoes, garlic, cream, oregano, onions, ground beef, parmesan, olive oil, rosemary and basil? I want.. uh... I wanteth... to make a Bolognese. Also, we need red wine for this. Just a cheap one will do just fine. Fineth.”

  “Okay, I have to go shopping,” I said. It was okay – there was a decent supermarket around the corner, and I could get all those things there. It was normally way out of my price range, but this once I'd splurge.

  “Here, your princessness. You'll need some magic scrolls. For protection against evil witches. I mean witcheth.”

  He pulled a money clip with some cards and cash out of his front pocket, peeled off a couple hundred dollar bills and handed them over. I accepted them without a word. It was my house, so technically I was the hostess, but he made more in thirty seconds on set than I did in a month. It would make no sense to make money an issue here.

  “Right back, your princely majesty,” I called behind me as I ran out. “Just going to the royal... uh... Trader Joe's.”

  That had to be the quickest shopping trip I'd ever done. But I found everything, including a bottle of Californian Shiraz, then ran back.

  He was already busy with the few things I did have, cutting onions and carrots with surprising speed.

  “Get us some glasses, your blueness. Half the fun of cooking comes from drinking while you do it. And could we get some music in here?”

  I didn't have wine glasses, only cheap ordinary table glasses.

  “Best kind of glass for this,” he said tactfully when I poured his. But I did have music, at least speakers that connected with my old iPhone and his new one. He quickly had it streaming some old lounge music kind of things, like 1960s stuff, with some nice mellow R&B.

  He continued chopping, heating and frying. I felt superfluous in my own kitchen, but it started smelling really good.

  “So I'm about to divulge a state secret right about now. You know, for making good tomato soup? Same goes for spaghetti sauce. It's cream. Enhances the flavor and gives good texture. Not much fat in the other things in the Bol', just veggies. Many restaurants just fill the whole thing with tablespoons of sugar. I don't like that too much.”

  “You don't like it sweet?” I teased.

  “Oh, I like some things sweet, your sweetness,” he replied in kind, winking sexily. I giggled.

  16

  The wine loosened me up, and having a superstar cook for me in my own kitchen seemed even more unreal than before. And more interesting. Now I was giving him long stares and twisting my hair and laughing louder and louder at his jokes. The presence of him, his round and firm ass in those jeans that fit so well, the play of muscles in his back and shoulders and forearms and hands... I was getting seriously amorous. I knew I was getting wet. And he hadn't even touched me since we got off the bike! That's what superstardom can do, I guess. I felt a definitive tingling sensation down below. Something there really wanted him to get closer. Much closer.

  He was concentrating on cooking the Bolognese sauce. I guess I had gone a little quiet, because he turned to glance at me. He must have seen something in the way I looked back, because he gave me a little smile that had more warmth than the smirks he was usually giving out. And then he sort of looked me over, as if he was seeing me for the first time.

  It was an appraising look, and it lingered by my chest and my crotch. It sent little lightning bolts to my pussy, and I half-consciously slid into a sexier pose, sticking my chest out more and arching my back to get my ass to stick out a little. He saw it, his eyes widened a little and he almost bit his lip. I looked at him from the corner of my eye and stroked my neck gently.

  Okay, so much for not throwing myself at him. It was the wine, that was my excuse. Again he looked me up and down, and then he pursed his lips a little and exhaled through them in a very sexy “whew”. It was a clear signal to me: it was on. A new little lightning bolt shot through my pussy.

  He reluctantly turned back to his cooking.

  “No need to set any table,” he said. “We just need a bowl, a fork and a spoon each. And some napkins, I guess. Very messy stuff, Bolognese. Taste it.”

  He dipped fork into the kettle and filled it with fragrant, dark red sauce.

  He served up a helping of whole grain spaghetti and the sauce into a bowl and stuck it out for me to taste, then gently placed the other hand at the back of my neck like you would for a child.

  It was steaming hot, and I gingerly accepted it. And... oh my. That was spaghetti the way it was meant to be made. Savory and spicy and just perfect.

  “Like it?” he said.

  I didn't know if he meant the sauce or his hand at the back of my neck. It didn't matter, because the answers were one and the same.

  “Yes. Yes, I do.” He could see in my face that I meant it, too.

  He scooped up a bowl for me and one for himself, then ushered me into the living room, because I had no kitchen table. Not that there would have been room for one, either.

  He sat me down in my old, but clean couch and sat down as close to me as he could. Then we enjoyed the spaghetti, but I think we were both looking forward to what would come after. Because I wanted that a lot now. We didn't talk much, just exchanged sexy glances. And I pulled my top down as far as it would go to show some cleavage.

  When we finally put our bowls on my coffee tables, I felt a giddy sensation, feeling a little dizzy with anticipation. My pussy was tingling like crazy, and I was sopping wet. I half worried that he would be able to smell my arousal.

  Then I glanced at his crotch. Yeah, I was not the only one who was feeling like that. That was one serious bulge in his jeans. I felt a new wave of warmth low down.

  He turned towards me.

  “Blue, you are one sexy princess.”

  Then he leaned in and just brushed my lips with his, looking me deep in the eyes with his intensely green ones. I responded in kind, just gently. This was going to happen, and I felt dizzy with anticipation. The butterflies in my stomach were a little sedated by the wine, but they were still there.

  He made contact with my lips again, carefully sliding his hands behind my head to gently hold my neck. The other hand slid down to my thigh, with the thumb pointing right at my pussy, gently. I saw no point in being coy - we both wanted this. With one hand, and him still kissing me, I released the upper button in my jeans and quickly pulled the zipper down. Yes, it's a slutty thing to do to prepare his way like that. But I was horny. I really wanted it, and so did he. Because when I clumsily reached over to check on him, the bulge under his jeans was very large and hard.

  “Mmm,” he said. “Keep exploring there...”

  He kissed me deeper, and with one free hand I tried to unbutton his fly, which is much harder when you're not wearing the pants yourself. Not to mention when there's a big cock straining to get out from the other side.

  I struggled with it until it would give, and then the rest of the buttons were much easier.

  I glanced at his crotch. Oh my, what a sight. Now that his fly was open, his cock was getting free of its worst restraints, and it was proudly standing to attention out of his pants. Only a tight pair of black boxers was between it and freedom. I couldn't hold back, I had to see it.

  When I pulled the elastic of his boxer shorts away from his hard stomach, his large and beautiful cock swung out in its full length and hit his belly button with a fleshy smack. It was absolutely the biggest I'd seen. And it was beautiful in its masculine power. Of course, what else would
you expect from a man who had everything?

  Archer wanted something for himself too. He had discovered that my jeans were open, and he carefully inserted two fingers under my panties. I spread my thighs a little to give him better access. I wanted him to feel how wet I was for him, how much I wanted this.

  The tips of his fingers reached the top of my slit and continued down the smooth, wet flesh until he encountered my clit, and it was like a bolt of lightning when he gently touched it. He didn't linger there, but continued down toward my opening.

  “Oh princess,” he said when he felt the opening. “You're very wet.”

  He kissed me deeper, his tongue making delicate circles down my throat. His fingers found an easy in and out motion in my pussy, while his thumb made delicious little circles on my clit, a heightening rhythm that had me spreading my legs wider and gasping.

  “Oh, deeper,” I moaned, trying to draw him in. With a wet squelch he slid his fingers as far into me as he could, as his thumb was still working round and round my clit. Oh, I would come pretty soon... but I didn't want that yet. I wanted something more.

  “I want you in me,” I panted.

  “Suits me fine,” he said in a low growl. He was impatient now, and his magnificent cock still stood proudly up out of his pants and shorts. He helped my pull my shoes off, then discarded his own and pulled down his own jeans. It was remarkable - his cock must have been extremely hard, because even when he was standing up, it stood vertically up along his abdomen. Not that I'd seen that many cocks in my life, but the ones I'd seen had always only stood out horizontally at best, sometimes drooping a little. But this big, hard one... I wanted that inside me, I wanted to receive it in my most secret and intimate place.

  Archer had the same idea. He placed me on the soft couch, then pulled my hips to him so I was sitting on the edge of the seat cushion with my bare ass. Then he spread my knees and opened me.

  I felt the cool air on my hot pussy, and it turned me on even more. I was ready for him now. He kneeled on the floor, between my legs. His thick, long cock was stiffer than ever and leaking pre-cum.

  I lay back and spread my legs more, wanting him to see all of me and to take what I offered. My whole body was flushed with a delicious, pulsating heat. I watched him slip his cock through my fleshy folds, up and down, making it wet and slippery enough to take me right. He placed the head of his manhood at my entrance and slid it up and down to make it wet for the penetration that would follow. He was taking his time, showing me that he was in charge, and I wasn't. I loved it, and needed him even more.

  I lifted my hips in frustration.

  “Take meeee!” I groaned. Then he looked me deep in my eyes with his green laser eyes and pressed his hips forward, pushing the head of his hard, searingly hot cock into me.

  “Oh yeah,” he groaned.

  “Yeeees!” I pushed my hips into his. “Fuck me!”

  I could feel that my pussy had to stretch to accommodate his size, and for a split second it almost felt painful, and I wondered if he'd split me open. But no - my body made room for him to take me as he slid all the way inside, filling me up like I'd never been before.

  He bottomed out in me and paused, feeling me around him. His cock and his eyes filled all of my consciousness - there was no room for anything else. He was taking me, body and soul, and I loved it. Then he pulled almost all the way out, and plunged back in. It was almost too much for my senses, and I arched my back in bliss, feeling my eyes rolling back. I was so wet, I could feel it on my thighs.

  Now he was setting up a steady, firm rhythm, fucking me in the depths of my body, satisfying my very primitive urge to be taken. He leaned in, and I slipped my arms around his neck, seeking his eyes, losing myself in the feel of his body, his belly moving against mine.

  “Oh yeeeees!” I urged him om, working under him, reveling in our wet heat. The strong smell of my wet pussy permeated the room. His cock throbbed inside me as again and again he thrust into me, burying himself to my deepest.

  Because of the angle and the size of his manhood, he was able to move the root of it against my clit, sending little lightning bolts out into my pelvis and further down in my pussy. I grabbed his arms, hard with ropey muscle, to pull myself closer to him and increase the sensation on my clit. I was going to come from this, I knew. And soon, too. I had been building up to this for hours, whether I'd known it or not.

  I felt the swell of an orgasm starting deep in me, pulsating in time with his deep thrusts and the motion against my clit, growing like waves, stronger and stronger. He must have understood what was going on, because he quickened his rhythm and brought me past the point of no return.

  I think I held my breath as I felt the huge wave of the climax spreading like fire through my pelvis. Then I threw my head back and moaned uncontrollably. I felt my thighs tremble and I heard the wet, fleshy noises of his cock fucking me hard and fast. He knew what he was doing - the fast rhythm as he bottomed out in me again and again just made the orgasm harder.

  It was already the best and hardest orgasm I'd ever had. I was lost in my own climax and the huge wave of pleasure that rolled through me. And then I looked at his face, with the intense, green eyes - and it was Archer Stratton fucking me, the super world famous icon of coolness and success. He was inside me, taking me deep in my most secret depths, like he had so many super famous girls, superstars in their own right.

  That released a new wave in me, and I gasped and stared at him in awe and surprise and bliss as it flowed through me and shook me to my core, as he kept thrusting his hot steel into me.

  Two waves like that had never happened before. Then I felt that I could, if I wanted, get even more. And I did want that. I locked eyes with the man who had been elected sexiest man in the world for two years running and saw a face that I had seen many times on television, on magazine covers and in super size at the movie theater. And he was inside me, fucking me, and the smell of my own surrender was so very strong, mixed with the musky presence of his body...

  The orgasms kept coming in wave after wave, one not much weaker than the next, until I was sure I'd been in continuous climax for twenty minutes or more. And he was still taking me...

  Finally I had to end it.

  “Please, no more,” I managed between blissful moans. “I'll die.”

  He went slower then, and finally came to a stop buried in me. He was experienced enough to know that after making a woman orgasm, he had to withdraw his manhood slowly, or the pussy would feel too empty and unpleasant. He did, still rock hard.

  “You enjoyed that, huh,” he growled.

  I just lay there, panting, and I'm sure my eyes had a glassy look. I still had little aftershocks going through me. But I was also conscious that although I'd just had my first serial orgasm, and the hardest orgasm ever, too, Archer had not come yet. And he deserved that, so very much. In the emotional turmoil I couldn't help feeling sad for him! He had given me such a wonderful experience, so selflessly, and he's not climaxed himself! I almost wanted to cry for him.

  “Please let me take care of that,” I said, motioning to his cock. “But let me recover for a minute first. You really fucked the daylights out of me. Oh fuck, you're amazing.”

  He sat down beside me, and I reached for his cock. It was wet with my juices, hard and stiff and smooth. My fingers didn't reach all the way around the shaft as I started to gently slide my hand up and down.

  “Wait.” I became aware that I was still wearing my top and bra. No, they had to go. I wanted to be naked for him, show him everything. I quickly pulled off my top, then turned my back to him and said “unsnap me?”

  But he was not one to follow orders. He gently put a hand on my back on pushed forward, having me lean my face down and my butt up. He cupped my ass on both sides, checking my firmness, then spread it open, hard, seeing all my secrets. Did he want that option, too? He would get it if he wanted. He could get anything from me right now.

  Then, with a practiced movement,
he unsnapped my bra, and it fell away. I turned back to let him see my boobs for the first time. They're not particularly big, but they're firm enough. From his sharp intake of breath I guessed that he liked them.

  Now, finally, it was his turn. I got on my knees in front of where he was sitting on the couch, his thighs splayed out wide. I got between them and placed my mouth on his shaft, over my hand. I could smell and taste my own juices, and I felt a new eruption of his own tasteless pre-cum.

  He was still stiff as a steel rod and obviously ready. I took him in as deep as I could. His thickness and length filled my mouth, and it excited me again. With my free hand I touched my clit to check if it might be possible to... no, it was much too sore for another round anytime soon.

  He had both his hands on my chest, cupping and caressing my boobs. He groaned and pressed his hips up, straining to get further into me. But I took him as far as I could, right to the gag reflex, and then I deliberately swallowed to take him past that, too. I got him pretty deep in my throat.

  At the same time I slid my lips up and down his manhood, admiring the hardness of his throbbing length. Very soon he made noises that told me he was close. No wonder – he'd been fucking me like a piston through a whole lot of orgasms. It wouldn't take him long to get there now..

  “I'm going to cum soon, baby,” he said in a strained voice. I knew why – it was a gentlemanly warning to take my mouth off his shaft if I didn't want to take his load in my mouth. But I did want that. I would have done anything for him at that moment, and taking this superstar's juices in me and keeping them seemed almost like a gift from him.

  “Very close now,” he issued the final warning and squeezed my boobs a little harder for emphasis. But I kept my mouth on him, increased the speed and the pressure around his shaft, and then he was grunting, arching his back and spraying his searing hot cum into my mouth. He kept it going for four of five major spurts, and I did my best to swallow as much of it as possible. It was not difficult. Then he was done, and I gently took his still stiff cock out of my mouth, lovingly kissed the tip and put it back inside his shorts.